


Deepening Shadows

by SnowTiefling



Category: Shadowrun
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 09:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20598239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowTiefling/pseuds/SnowTiefling
Summary: A short fiction about my face adept that I never really got to play in an actual Shadowrun game.





	Deepening Shadows

There is a certain rhythm to the shadows, Peter observed, as he eyed his mark from across the clubs busy room. The young man was the son of a high ranking corporate manager, someone with just enough pull to be useful for getting things that ‘runners like him wanted, but not high enough in the food chain of the corporate jungle to make the life of a shadowrunner particularly difficult. The young man wanted a bit of danger, a bit of thrill, and had been flitting from dive bar to seedy club all night, but Peter knew that he always ended up back here at the Fallen Angel. Which worked out well for him, since this was one of his own favorite haunts. Good business here, if you knew where to look, who to talk to. Who to avoid.

Peter watched as the young man slotted a cred stick into the stage of a lovely troll dancer. Not an oxymoron, this girl had had a lot of work done to make herself dangerously exotic yet still attractive to the average human. The dancer winked at Peter’s mark and gave him a good show of her skills on the pole, and a good view as well. The mark downed another shot of something blue and glowing and pulled his cred stick out, his face trying to show interest but Peter could see in his marks eyes the lack of interest. He was putting on a show, probably for the 2 other young men with him who were whooping and generally being your average 20 something SINners with too much cred, too much libido, and too little sense. The mark got up and excused himself, heading towards the back where the restrooms were.

Time for Spider to get to work.

He leaned casually against the wall next to the bathroom door, and waited for his mark to come out. A few minutes passed, and Spider kept an eye on the marks friends. One of them had the troll girl gyrating over him, the other clapping and cheering as his friend got an up close view of everything and then some. Spider would have put money on the 2 paying for one of the VIP lounges soon, where the stripper would have an easy time fleecing them for every shred of cred they had to spare. That was her job, after all. His mark came out, and Spider spoke. “Hey sweetheart, got a minute?”

The mark paused, his head turning. “What?” He mumbled, and Spiders magic went to work. He subtly altered the tone of his voice, and he locked eyes with the mark. Words poured out of him, honeyed and sticky. The mark was drunk. The mark was horny. The mark wanted to get away from his friends and be himself, not looking at naked troll girls. Or elf girls. Or any girl.

Spider knew what the mark wanted, and he wove the lie that he wanted that too. All the mark had to do was sneak away with him. Wouldn’t it be fun? Give them what they want, and they will lie down in your web willingly and thank you after. Spider almost felt bad for the mark.

Almost.

A few minutes later the mark and Spider were in the alley. A few minutes after that in a dive motel that didn’t check SINs and only took creds. The mark was nervous. Spider wasn’t. This was too easy. The mark didn’t notice the gentle press of the tranq patch against his skin as he hungrily sought out Spider’s kiss. And then it was done. The mark was out. Spider straightened his shirt and sighed, fishing a cheap comm from his pocket.

“Mr. Gerrard, you don’t know me but I think you know who this is.” Spider said, pointing the camera of the cheap commlink at the unconscious form of the half naked mark. “I need you to listen to me very carefully, or very bad things will happen to your son. Things involving a knife, and maybe some hungry ghouls. Do you understand?”

The marks father tried to threaten, plead, all to no avail. Spider was cold. Spider’s voice told the man all he needed to know. His son would die, painfully, if he didn’t do what he was told. The man cried. Spider kept his voice neutral. “You have 2 hours. Make sure you get it done. Or else.”

The connection closed. Spider sat in the chair, opposite the mark. Watching. Waiting. 

A chirp on his burner comm. The data had been delivered. Faster than expected. He smiled. He really didn’t have the stomach to do half of the things he had implied he would do if Mr. Gerrard hadn’t complied. He didn’t, for example, know of any ghouls to feed the mark to. But Mr. Gerrard had believed him. Most people believed him. He had a way of making them believe. 

He poured a glass of cold water from the tap and sat it on the nightstand. He left a small note for the mark. “Thanks, you made my last night here memorable. Stay safe. XOXO Herbert.” 

Peter looked at his reflection ins a shop window his way back to the club, his skin tone losing its freckles, his hair going from strawberry blond to brown again. He smiled. Even if the mark remembered anything about the night he’d remember Herbert, the cute redhead, and wonder what exactly happened. 

He wouldn’t remember Spider. Because he had never been there.


End file.
